Chapter thirty-two #2
“Not wrong, but it wasn’t how it should have been. I shouldn’t have taken your virginity like that. It should have been special. We deserved the opportunity to try. It never came, and we captured the only opportunity we could.”
“It was special,” I tell him, “because it happened with you. And now we’re starting a life together, we’ll be navigating a lot of new challenges side by side.”
“I thought we were going to bed first before the deep conversation started,” he says with a smirk.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
He slides a finger inside the neckline of my low-cut top, pushing downward so the material falls below my breasts, exposing me.
He pinches my nipple between his fingers and twists gently.
His eyes never leave mine, watching for every reaction to his touch.
Warm, damp lips move to my neck as he continues his assault on my nipples with his fingers.
His kisses are gentle, starting below my ear lobe and moving south. A moan escapes my lips.
“You like that?” he says, and I groan in response as he kisses my collarbone.
His hands move to my sides, and he trails his fingers softly over the material of my top, up and down.
My skin tingles under his touch, a familiar sensation appearing between my legs.
“You’re so sensitive,” he whispers. “Your body reacts to mine on every level. I love feeling you tremble beneath my fingers.”
“Make me shudder with those magic fingers,” I say, and he chuckles. “Take me to the edge then push me over.”
“Bedroom or couch?” His eyes fire as he asks.
My breathing hitches. “Couch.” He nods in approval, then crouches and pulls my pajama shorts down my legs. I never even bothered getting dressed today. “Where do you want me?”
“Is on your hands and knees comfortable for you?”
“I’m sure I could manage that.”
“Kneel on the sofa and place your hands on the armrest.” He watches me get into position then moves beside me, tracing a single finger from the base of my neck down my spine to my ass. “Spread your knees wider,” he orders. “Head down and close your eyes.” I hear him move away.
“Where are you going?”
“You’ll find out in a minute. Stay like that—it will be worth your while, I promise.”
There is the sound of doors opening and closing, then something being placed on the coffee table.
The snap of leather being pulled from denim surprises me.
I hear the belt hit the floor. When I take a peek, he’s standing beside me wearing only his jeans, the button undone.
“No looking,” he scolds, slapping my ass hard.
I snap my eyes closed but not before I see the bowl of ice cubes sitting on the table. Fuck, he has a plan. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I whisper, breathless. My mind is whirling with the possible uses for an ice cube. He places three on my spine. One at my shoulder blades, one halfway down my back, then a final one just above my ass crack.
“You’re going to hold that position, Violet, ‘til they melt,” he says.
“I want you to focus on them dissolving slowly, running over your body. This one.”
His finger skims the skin at the lowest one.
“Will seep down here.” He runs the finger between my butt cheeks.
“To here.” His finger arrives at my pussy, and he touches my already wet lips.
“If they fall before they’ve melted, I’ll punish you. I want you to use the time to think how I’ll make you feel tonight and how I’ll make it happen.”
He moves to stand in front of me. “Eyes open, head up.”
When I move my focus upward, I’m eye level with his crotch.
He slides the jeans down his legs. He’s not wearing any underwear.
His cock hangs heavily in front of me. Bringing both his hands to my hair, he wraps the strands around his fingers then moves his hips toward me.
“Open,” he says. I comply, and he slides his cock into my mouth.
“Remember, don’t let those cubes fall.” His thrusts are gentle to start with.
I’m focused on the ice-cool trickles moving over my body while he pumps between my lips.
With each thrust, my arousal heightens, then I feel the cube at my shoulders slide—it smashes on the floor.
“Oops,” he says, withdrawing and walking to my side.
He takes my hair once again in his hand, pulling my head backward.
His other cracks off my backside unexpectedly.
I wince, and the remaining ice cubes follow the first.
“Bad girl,” he growls, then slaps me again.
“But fuck, you look good like this.” One more blow hits my skin. “Did that hurt?”
“Yes, it stung,” I stammer. He massages my backside with nimble fingers where he laid the blows.
“I owe you an apology then,” he says, lying down on the sofa, lining his face up with my pussy.
“Sit. Get those legs on either side of my face and sit the fuck down.”
I push myself up, nervous that he’s underneath me at my current size.
“Sit down,” he growls, wrapping his arms around my thighs and pulling me onto his tongue.
He licks at my clit; on instinct I move, enjoying the buzz building, needing the friction.
He tightens his grip, encouraging me lower, then slips his tongue inside, running it around my entrance.
“Fuck me, Violet. Let those perfect juices flow into my mouth. I want to drink you down. I’m a thirsty man.”
I flex my hips harder, and his mouth eats urgently, wanting to savor every last mouthful.
His tongue returns to my clit, and he pushes hard.
I let go and give him what he wants. Me.
My orgasm surges, my whole body trembling with pressure then the delicious release.
After, we lie in each other arms, wrapped in a blanket on the sofa.
He’s behind me, one hand protectively on my stomach.
He props himself up on his other elbow and looks down at me.
“There’s something we need to talk about,” he says, and I glance at him.
“Marley has made it clear he intends to make contact when our baby is born.”
My heart sinks. After a wonderful few hours, the issues still need to be discussed.
“We need to block any claim he has as best we can. How do you feel about getting married?”